HetaMulan
by Juniper Night
Summary: There were the secrets you wanted to keep, and then there were the secrets you didn't dare let out. This particular secret fit under both categories - but two nations figured it out, and everyone knows that three can't keep a secret...
1. The Great Steel Dragon

**The time was WWII.**

Metal clashed and clanged, over and over again as wok met katana. Sparks were flying, and around the dueling pair heat radiated from the flaming shells of airplanes strewn across both the ocean surface and the decks of the fleet of battleships - but China and Japan were focused entirely on each other, anticipating each other's moves just in time to block and lunge again.

They were so thoroughly engaged in combat that neither noticed the kamikaze plane speeding towards them until the roar from it's engines was so close, they could distinguish it clearly from the cacophony of the battlefield. In the space of time it takes for a lightning bolt to strike the top of the Empire State Building, America was there. With a small grunt he dodged the propeller and caught the plane head-on, grinding his heels into the deck to slow its movement to a dead halt before he threw the plane into the ocean. The resulting explosion - and the subsequent steam from the now-boiling water - obscured the bow of the American aircraft carrier upon which all three had been standing. By the time the vapor had cleared, Japan had vanished.

"He's gone," China sighed. He got no response.

"America?"

China looked around and saw a figure lying on the deck; when he walked over, he saw it was America, spread eagle on the deck and already covered in a fine layer of ash. Blood leaked from a tear in his uniform above his abdomen. With a curse, China slipped his arms underneath America's own and surprised himself by being able to hoist the western nation onto his shoulder.

China trudged all the way down to the Officer's Country, joined by other Chinese and American soldiers also carrying wounded and heading belowdecks. Bypassing the medical bay, China instead went directly to America's cabin – there was no point in taking up a cot one of his soldiers could use, just because America had gotten himself wounded – and along the way shooed off one of America's combat medics because: "Chinese medicine works best, aru."

When he reached the cramped, claustrophobic cabin, he less-than-gently dropped America onto his cot; America may have been lighter than China might have expected, but a few hundred meters added weight to any load.

America literally off his shoulders, China went next door to his equally tiny cabin and set about to finding bandages, herbs, and salves before he returned to the wounded nation's cabin and turned his attention to accessing America's wound. First China had to pull off America's bomber jacket. Then came the belt, the field jacket, and the tie before he could even begin to try and separate the fabric of America's shirt from the wound. Why he was wearing his pilot's jacket while on the ground - and why his uniform required him to wear a tie at all - was completely beyond China; eventually, however, he got to the bloodied shirt and with a knife managed to cut away the already half-scabbed fabric. The next part was China's least favorite; removing the shrapnel. However, it had to be done; gritting his teeth, China placed one hand on America's chest and one knee over his legs, and then he reached for the first sliver of metal…

)o(

America did not scream, even in unconsciousness, and for this China was grateful. He hated when his patients screamed; hated the reminder that sometimes healing entailed more pain. But soon the last piece of shrapnel was removed. China applied Yunnan Paiyao to the wound, and then America was bandaged up, neat as a lady's hair… yet, China could not shake the feeling that he'd forgotten something.

Was he, China, also wounded? China examined himself; no, he hadn't thought so. Was America wounded somewhere else? China didn't think so, but it was hard to tell under the torn and bloodied remains of America's uniform, so China unbuttoned the half of the garment which he hadn't cut off with a knife and tossed it over his shoulder to scab in a corner. Wrapped around America's chest was a thick layer of bandages. They were sweaty and somewhat dirty from the ash, seawater, and engine grease that had managed to permeate his many-layered uniform in the past couple weeks, but it was hard to tell if the blood on the bandages was from this old wound or the new one.

"How strange, aru…" China muttered to himself, before deciding to check whether or not America was still bleeding. He slipped his hand carefully underneath the cloth and felt upwards... nothing so far, though America was really sof-

With a yelp, China withdrew his hand and shuffled away from the nation whose blue eyes were just beginning to flutter.

"China?" the nation groaned, looking up at him with clouded eyes.

China did not respond, instead choosing to study the person in front of him. Only now did he notice the way America's abdomen narrowed slightly at the waist and flared out at the hips; notice the more sinewy, wiry build of America's arms; notice the eyes which were too bright, too wide, framed by too thick lashes, and which were staring at him in confusion.

"Is something wrong?" America asked sleepily, trying to remember where she was, and why her belly hurt, and her head too, and how come her neck felt so stiff, and- oh, maybe China would know.

China looked down, effectively breaking eye contact, before he answered "Yes; you."

"Me? What's wrong with me?" America asked cheerfully, cheekily, trying not to give voice to the fear crawling up her spine. It was all coming back to her in a disjointed train of memories. There had been a suicide plane. She had stopped it from hitting her only ally in the Pacific. It had exploded. Something - the propeller? - had wounded her. She was on her cot, in her cabin on the _U.S.S. Essex_. With China. And she was not wearing anything but bandages from the waist up.

"You already know, and so do I. You're a female"

America stared at the man before her in - staged - incredulity before she called on every actor and actress who'd ever made it in Hollywood or on Broadway and began to laugh, "Ahahahaha, that's funny!"

"I'm serious, aru!" China nearly shouted in his frustration.

"Is this that thing Artie calls sarcasm?" America asked 'innocently.'

"America, you're not fooling me! I felt your chest-

America's expression instantly became affronted. "If you thought someone was female why on earth would you feel their chest!?"

"Ai-yah! That came out wrong..."

There followed an awkward silence, which China broke.

"If you can prove to me that you are a man, I will pretend we did not ever have this conversation." He promised, looking straight into the other nation' eyes. This time, it was America who broke eye contact. "I can't," she all but whispered.

China sighed. "I was very much hoping you wouldn't say that," he admitted. America looked down, slipping her bare arms into her favorite bomber jacket to cover herself - and maybe to provide a small sense of security - as she listened to China begin to contemplate aloud what this would mean for his country.

"It is not my concern what happens to a girl fighting in a man's war" - America's fists clenched - "but if other countries were to find out, then we could lose potential allies or gain more enemies by maintaining our alliance with your country," America looked like she was about to argue, but China held up one hand in the nearly universal gesture for 'wait.' "However, at the same time, the Allies could use your help, aru - even if you are a brash and crazy female."

"Damn straight," America hmphed.

China stared at her, and then he did the unexpected; he smiled. Once, a long time ago, he had known another girl who acted like this…

"My people have a legend," He began fondly, capturing America's attention, "about a girl who disguised herself as a soldier. Her name was Mulan.

"Like you, she also saved me from a dangerous enemy. For her, I will not expose you."

)o(

_1998_

_Over fifty years later..._

China looked at the large pile of videos before him; there were family movies, and sci-fi movies, and action movies, and romance movies, and movies he would've hidden from his younger siblings if they were still little. All of them were Western in origin. By law, only 10 of them would be allowed to enter his country's market, and he was helping to select which ten, as he was wont to do from time to time. He couldn't and wouldn't watch all of them, but he could select a few that looked interesting and give his invaluable opinion.

He was shuffling through the mix of foreign films – Armageddon, A Bug's Life, Dr. Doolittle, The Parent Trap, Godzilla – when he saw one that Piqued his interest: Mulan.

China decided he would watch that movie first.

)o(

"Hello?" A man's voice came from the telephone.

"Nǐ hǎo, Huā Mùlán," China greeted America teasingly. There was a peal of laughter from America's end.

"I take it you saw the film, then. Wasn't her name Fa Mulan though?" America asked, her voice rising to its natural, more feminine pitch.

"Huā is the Mandarin pronunciation, Mùlán is a Mandarin name. Fa is Cantonese."

"Oh, whoops… I apologize on behalf of Disney?"

"Sure, aru."

"But other than that, it was a good movie, right?"

"The Sui Dynasty capital was not the Forbidden City in Beijing, and Mulan's gender wasn't originally discovered-"

"Oh…"

"But other than that it was good." China could practically see America's reaction on the other side of the line, right down to the victory fist pump.

"Wooh! I knew you'd like it, Yao!" At some unknown point in time, America had started to use his human name, but while she'd told Yao her male name, she'd refused to tell him her female human name - if she even had one. For this reason, on the rare occasions that America and China met alone for non-political, non-business reasons, China had gotten in the habit of calling her Mulan, since calling her Alfred felt strange.

"Yes, I liked it, Huā Píng."

"But Yao, I'm not in disguise right now!"

"Yes, but Huā Píng means 'flower pot' in Chinese - what you Americans call eye candy, aru."

"… Shut up."

)o(

**Omake**: (because this _is_ Mulan inspired):

A high ranking military official, his white uniform dusted with ash but otherwise impeccable, stood on the beach looking out over the battlefield- no the bomb site, where he had just attacked. Pearl Harbor was in ruins; four of the eight U.S. battleships stationed in the harbor had been sunk, and the other four had been heavily damaged; multiple other water craft had also been sunk, and his men had destroyed hundreds of American planes while he himself suffered very little casualties.

A success, Japan thought.

Suddenly there came a long and eerie wail from behind him. Japan spun on his heel to see a young girl, a native Hawaiian, blowing fiercely into a conch shell. Japan could see where something had wounded her shoulder, just above her heart, and he wondered why a girl would be anywhere near a naval base so early in the morning. The more important question he supposed, as the girl began to run out of breath and the wail weakened, was why an injured girl who could barely stand upright was blowing this shell horn across the harbor.

The sound finally ceased, and the silence was broken only by the footfalls of Japan as he walked quietly across the sand.

"Why do you blow your horn?" Japan asked. Before he could even finish his question, an answer came from across the ocean; a lone wolf's howl, which was soon joined by another wolf, and then by more shell horns, and the calls of strange birds and wild beasts that Japan had never heard before and could not hope to identify.

"Now all of America knows you are here," the girl said quietly, gazing across the water and refusing to look anywhere near him.

"Good," Japan said. Let this serve as a warning, he thought; stay out of this war.

* * *

**Disclaimer; Me no own Hetalia, or the three amazing drawings in the cover picture (If I did, I'd cite them,) nor the two quotes alluded to in the summary, which belong to Ally Carter and Benjamin Franklin respectively.**

**A/N - Wooh! I think that went well, actually considering this is my first; multi-chapter Hetlia fic/story with a plot that's actually been written out/story featuring some sort of action/story attempting to add more Imagery, as per my 9th grade English teacher's requirements/ fanfic attempting to use that line-y thing people use. Betcha it won't work... **

Hey look! _Historical notes: The well known & the not-so-much_

kamikaze - suicide planes loaded with explosives, used towards the end of WWII when the Japanese became more desperate, thus placing the beginning of this story in 1944 or 1945

The Empire State Building - was completed in 1931, so yes it _was_ around back then. Also, in a single storm, it may be struck by lightning as many as 20 times, and it takes 1, 575 steps to reach the top floor... thank you Bathroom Trivia Almanac XD

Officer's Country - area of ships in the U.S. Navy (most navies, actually, from what I can tell) which is off-limits to enlisted sailors, and which basically serves as the living quarters of the officers on board the ship. While decidedly cramped and lacking privacy, the officer's country was/is/? infinitely better than the Crew's Berthing. If they were in the crew's berthing, China might have been dumping America on a hammock.

Traditional Chinese Medicine - is actually better than western medicine in certain cases - or so my Chinese-American friend says. I wouldn't know, as I attempt to avoid needing medicine in general, ya' know?

The American Army - really wore all that minus the bomber jacket, as shown by Creator. Sailors didn't, but as one poster said about the soldiers fighting across both oceans, "The Navy put 'em across!" so let's assume America was on the Aircraft carrier as a soldier and not a sailor.

Yunnan Paiyao - Super-top-secret formula with over 30-some ingredients that was invented in the early 1900s and is still in use today - definitely available in capsule and liquid form, but I'm pretty sure it comes in powder form as well...

'Neat as a lady's hair' - look up ancient Chinese hairstyles. Anything with strange hair loopies, elaborate pile-ups, or shiny headdresses are probably accurate.

this-isn't-historical-but-I-don't-care - sleepiness, a stiff neck, and unconsciousness are all signs of a serious head injury.

Essex - a new class of aircraft carrier developed after Japan and Italy said 'screw you' to the Washington Naval Treaty, which was a basically an agreement by America, France, Italy, Japan, and the U.K. after WWI agreeing to limit naval strength to prevent an arms race. Long-bow's were 888 ft (271 meters) long, and 'Short'-bows were 870 ft.

_U.S.S. Essex_ - I meant for this to be a generic, nonexistent aircraft carrier, named after the class of carrier; however, it turns out this was an actual aircraft carrier. It fought in the Pacific War though, engaged in 'prolonged aerial attack' with the Japanese en route to the Mariana Islands, and repelled them in a 'businesslike manner,' in February of 1944, and on November 25th of the same year, she was damaged for the first time by a kamikaze plane, so that's close enough for me.

China - should he have been on board the aircraft carrier? Probably not (it doesn't look like there was a whole lot of fighting together if you ask me) but then, the five (six) of the Allied powers shouldn't have been stranded on Seychelles either... speaking of which, why were Rome and Austria there, but not Canada? Imi wakannai... anyway, I'm labeling this as creative license. Same with America's language.

Videos - those things they used before DVD and Blu-ray :D Just kidding. China only allows 10 foreign films a year to enter the market. Mulan _was_ one of those 10 in 1998, the year it was released - though they didn't release it until _after_ the busy holiday season was over (XD). Hua Ping, Mulan's man name, really does translate to flower pot, or eye candy, and was used as a pun in the Chinese version of the movie.

**... You probably didn't read every single one of those notes, but I promise I'll read if you ****_REVIEW_****_!_**


	2. だれ？(Who?)

(2012)

"I vill now entertain a motion to adjourn-" Germany began in a worn out tone of voice.

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before multiple nations shouted - without bothering to obtain the floor - "I move to adjourn!"

"Second!"

"Third!"

Germany glared; he briefly considered rising to a point of order and correcting his fellow nations, but he was anxious to leave himself. Being the (unofficial) chairman of any conference was stressful, but being chairman of a conference with nearly 200 hyperactive nations who tended to act like children on sugar highs would probably lead to heart failure if nations were prone to such things. These verdammt world conferences made Germany's throat hoarse; they caused his ear drums to throb, and they gave him migraines... in other words, they were the physical manifestations of headaches, complete with schedules and agendas that no one ever bothered to follow. Germany sighed and asked the one question that was always met with silence:

"Are zere any objections?" From his seat besides the Italy twins, Greece gave a particularly loud snore. "Seeing none, I now declare zee 2012 March conference adjourned."

Italy let out a happy "Ve~" and turned towards Japan with plans for dinner and pasta already dancing through his head. He was puzzled to see, however, that Japan had disappeared. Italy tilted his head to the side in confusion and stared at the vacated seat for all of a minute before a shinier thought crossed his mind.

"Fratello! You need to try Japanese pasta!"

Across the room, a similar occurrence was taking place. England needed to talk to America about his increasingly inadequate attire at these world conferences, and he could have sworn that America and… that brother of his had been sitting _right there_, but they seemed to have vanished. Had they left already? Why would they be in such a hurry? America normally stuck around long enough to socialize with some of the other nations and insult him a few times before he left. England began to wonder if something important was perhaps going on to inspire such haste in the usually lax nation. He was distracted from any further musings, however, when a certain frog decided to make his excruciatingly, tortuously, insufferably annoying presence known.

)o(

"Dude! So what do you think?" 'Rin' asked her twin brother 'Len.'

"I think Nantucket's sticking out again."

America swore lightly and stuck the offending piece of sandy hair safely back under her yellow wig.

Canada smiled and adjusted his own spiky-haired yellow wig before answering. "It's kinda like the convention you took me to at your place, eh? Just without the comic book characters."

America smiled. "Well, it is the Tokyo International _Anime_ Fair. At my place it's mostly comic cons…. Hey! Isn't that Sai, from Naruto?!" America exclaimed with a grin as they entered the Tokyo Big Sight convention center, pointing at a man who was moving in their direction holding a camera.

"Hey, isn't that _Japan_?" Canada hissed, trying to discreetly hide both his and America's faces at the same time.

It was too late. Japan had seen them, and faster than one could say 'Hidekaz Himaruya' he was fangirling right in front of them;

"You're Rin and Ren! _Honto ni suki desu,_ your cosprays are so amazing." Japan gasped when he got a better look at their faces, and both North Americans thought they were done for, but instead Japan squealed, "You're twins, ne? Fraternar twins? You guys are almost identicar, this is rike the perfect cos- Is that Hatsune Miku?" Japan then somehow got them to follow him to where a Japanese girl was cosplaying as Hatsune Miku, and he quickly took their pictures before he saw another amazing picture-worthy cosplay from One Piece and hurried away before he missed it.

The Miku girl smiled at them and said something in Japanese, presumably also complimenting their costumes, but seeing that they didn't understand she laughed and gave them an exaggerated thumbs-up before turning away and heading deeper into the anime con.

As soon as they were gone, Canada and America let out identical sighs of relief; then they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Who- who knew Japan t-took his anime… so seriously," America gasped.

Canada nodded. "Yeah… I-I thought… only girls like you acted like that." He teased.

America punched him good naturedly and straightened up, wondering where they should go first; the Tokyo Big Sight was huge, and there was a lot going on. Beside her, Canada tried not to fall over and gingerly rubbed the place where America had 'lightly' punched him, much to the amusement of several Sailor Moon girls nearby.

)o(

The Monday after the end of Tokyo International Anime Fair, Japan lay on his futon, basking in the afterglow of a good weekend spent indulging his inner otaku. Tomorrow he would have to return to his work reviewing papers and handling international relationships. However, he'd been given this _yasumi,_ this day off, since his bosses had learned from experience that a Japan on an anime high was a useless government official or worker of any kind, but an anime-deprived Japan was even worse. Thus, he was allowed to attend the anime fair as long as he could collect himself by the day after. Standing up and adjusting his _yukata_, Japan decided to watch some anime…

Ai! But first he should look at all his new pictures and upload them to his computer!

Happily humming a favorite anime theme song, Japan set a kettle of water to boil and then unpacked his computer and camera from the bags he'd used to carry them around in during the past week of conferences and conventions. By the time the water had come to a boil and he'd let the tea cool down and steep, all 900 or so pictures had been uploaded in RAW and JPEG format. With his tea and his pictures both ready, Japan settled at his _kotatsu_ and prepared for a morning of cat-like contentment.

The lighting had been favorable at the Big Sight, and Japan was pleased to see that he would not have to edit the majority of his pictures. Starting at the end of the anime fair and working his way back, Japan relived the excitement of the event. There was Yami Yugi, Yugi's other, dark self from Yu-Gi-Oh! And there, Yamaguchi-san, the voice actor from InuYasha and One Piece! And, there, the entire set of characters from Code Geas! Kiku almost squealed at that picture. He was fairly certain he had when he saw the group in real life….

He continued to click through the vast collection of photographs, passing a seemingly endless array of Naruto, black-clad butlers, soul reapers, and various pokemon.

When he got to the picture he'd taken of Hatsune Miku and the Kagamine twins, he paused. There was something… familiar about the twins, though he wasn't sure why. He looked at the picture a long time, before shaking his head and moving on to the picture before it. This picture was also of the Kagamine twins, but without Miku-chan. In this picture, too, the twins looked familiar, though something was missing… Neither of them were his citizens as these siblings were of European descent, and very few foreigners had been allowed to live permanently on his shores. Each of them looked too young to be important government officials or ambassadors – and the day he met a government official who made a point of attending anime fairs in foreign countries was the day he knew he'd 'died and gone to Heaven' as he'd heard some of the western nations say – so that explanation was out. Baffled and now very curious, Japan switched back and forth between the two pictures several times before he noticed a tiny yet unmistakable detail in the picture with Miku-chan; a single strand of sand-colored hair which stuck out from under Rin's wig, defiantly refusing to obey the laws of gravity. Japan had only ever seen one such strand of hair quite like that.

'_America-kun?'_

**)o(**

**A/N: Alright, so this was probably a good よんひやく words shorter than the other chapter, but after **Secret-H** added this story to her Freakin' Awesome community dedicated to America, and a bunch of y'all favorited and followed this story, I felt like getting something written, edited, and published sooner rather than later - so here it is! Esta aqui! Special thanks to all who read, fav'd, and followed, as well as to **Basilisk Heart** and **The Egoist's Girlfriend** for reviewing, **Secret-H** (whom all experience hath shown to probably bare a common name...) for adding to "America the Freakin' Awesome," and the large amount of people who created the soundtracks for _Lilo and Stitch_ and _How to Train Your Dragon_. Random combination, I know...**

ねね!_ Not-Very-Historical-But-Still-Generally-Related-to -Social-Studies Notes:_

Entertain a motion to adjourn - to do nearly anything in the world of parliamentary procedure, you have to make a motion (id est, stand up, be acknowledged by whoever's running the meeting, and say I move to _bla_, and then - generally - be seconded, hold a debate, and vote before you can actually do the thing you've made a motion to do.) By saying he will entertain, or consider the motion, Germany is basically saying that they've covered everything they were supposed to cover and can now leave if no one objects.

Obtain the Floor - remember sitting in circle time, raising your hand, and waiting for the teacher to call on you for show-and-tell? This is essentially the politician's equivalent. According to _Robert's Rules of Order; 11th Edition_ (a simply _charming_ book) before one can, say, make a motion, one must obtain the floor by rising, saying "Mr. President," or "Madame Chair," or whatever, and be addressed as "Mr. Speaker," "Ms. Secretary," etc.

Point of Order - once again in the world of parliamentary procedure, a point of order is simply something someone uses to say 'Hey, Dummkopf! You did something wrong and are thus not following the rules of Parli-Pro!' but in a mature, dignified, and altogether more satisfying manor.

Chairman - the person running the meeting, be it a president, a vice-president, a parliamentarian, etc.

verdammt - damn, in German (I think)

That brother of his - I _promise_ Canada won't be so invisible in the rest of this fic! Pinky swear!

Rin and Len/Ren Kagamine - Vocaloid singers and fraternal twins. I know I'm not the first one to consider this, as I once saw an amazing fanart of this very cosplay, albeit with Canada as the girl.

Tokyo International Anime Fair - exactly what it says on the tin. It's a fair. For anime. Hosted in Tokyo, but compatible with international fair goers and animation/manga creators. The Tokyo Big Sight is the big exposition and convention center where it's been held since 2002.

Sai - someone from Naruto, who kinda vaguely resembles Japan.

Honto ni suki desu・ほんとにすきです。- I found this a long time ago on a website, and now I forget... honton means 'true' or 'real,' suki seems to mean 'like' is Tokyo Otaku Mode on face-palm-book is anything to go by, and desu is a wonderful verb which condenses every conjugation the English language uses to express 'be' with (is, am, are, etc.) so let's assume Japan was saying "I really like (your cosplays)!" Ne is kinda like an all-purpose question that you add to the end of a sentence, like eh, huh, and da - ne?

Hatsune Miku - you probably already know her as the Vocaloid singer with the long blue pigtails, but just in case you don't; now you do.

Sailor Moon - it's that very-anime-ish anime with all the girls in Japanese school-girl uniforms

Otaku・おたく - chances are, you are one, unless you don't know what an otaku is; then you're well on the path to _becoming_ one by reading fanfiction.

Yasumi・やすみ - a day off or a break. Literally, rest.

Yukata・ゆかた - Basically the casual version of a kimono, a yukata is a light traditional Japanese clothing that can be worn as summer wear, around the house, or as pajamas.

RAW and JPEG - different photo formats. JPEG's are more compatible with different programs and software, thus ensuring their dominance over the internet. RAWs are large cumbersome files that have way more info and editing capability, which is good if you under- or over-expose. Very important to the avid photographer...

Kotatsu・こたつ - you remember that low table with the blankets, around which Germany and Italy made an alliance with Japan? Yeah. That.

Yugi - the main character from Yu-Gi-Oh. Dark/Yami/other Yugi is the taller, darker one who was apparently possessed by an ancient pharaoh.

One Piece, InuYasha, and Code Geas - other anime which I know next to nothing about. The soul reapers belong to Bleach, the black-clad butlers to Black Butler, and the Naruto and pokemon to Naruto and Pokemon, respectively.

chan & kun - honorific titles one adds to others names to make more polite. Kun is what you'd call an equal, while chan is generally reserved for small children of endearment. However chan, being cute, can also be used on older people, though genrally only females. I think. It's complicated, and I've heard different things from different sources, so take this with a grain of salt, but know that that's what it boils down to.

**Yay! I hath no more notes. If I made a mistake somewhere about the other anime, then feel free to correct me. I may be a geek and an otaku obsessed with TT and APH, but I'm a Geek/Otaku _Nerd_ with very good grades in very hard classes, so I can not afford to get hooked on a third anime, cartoon, or manga...**

**Review, ne?**


	3. How About a Girl Who's Got a Brain?

)3(

Over the next month, Japan took to studying America. Suddenly there were little hints _everywhere_. There was, for instance, the way she put far more importance on personal hygiene than most other countries. Of course, some of this was cultural, but even the personifications of other such cleanliness-obsessed cultures could go whole conferences without bathing, a result of centuries without running water. Japan's current theory on this was that other girls could wear makeup and perfume if they wanted to cover up some perceived flaw or odor, but for America that was not an option.

Then there was America's tendency to act extra-oblivious whenever another girl tried to hit on her at Starbucks or McDonalds. Actually, some of those instances had been really funny even without knowing her true gender; the barely-concealed frustration on the employees part at 'his' supposed denseness generally grew more amusing with each failed attempt at flirting.

And, perhaps most endearingly, there was the fact that America's ideas regarding women's equality were actually feasible – albeit well-disguised. While the general content of the idea was legitimate, America was always careful to throw in a few easily-removable fantastical elements such as cyborgs, aliens, and superheroes before dragging another country into the mix and indirectly convincing them to fix it. Japan hypothesized that she didn't want anyone to notice that most of her genuine ideas all centered on something so close to her secret.

For weeks, little hints and clues that he had missed before popped into his head without warning.

Finally, after a little over a month had passed and the world was again gathered into one conference facility, Japan decided to take advantage of the fact that America and him - and Canada, and South Korea - were in the same suite and simply confront America after the meetings.

Japan stood in front of the door to his room and took a deep breath, before he slid his key card into the slot and watched the little light flicker green: go.

Setting his briefcase neatly besides his luggage, Japan opened the side door to the living room/kitchenette that separated his room from that of the North American brothers and was about to knock on the door of said room when he heard the conversation coming from within:

"C'mon, Mattie, when's the last time we went out dancing?" It was America-san who had spoken. At least, he thought so – the voice was higher and somehow lighter than usual.

"America, the entire world is in this city; don't you think that's a bit risky?" This voice also sounded like America-san, but it was much too quiet to be hi - _ano_, her - so Japan deduced that this was either his brother, Canada-san, or one of the miniature nation units he had created – in six varieties! – after having a little too much sake one night a few decades ago.

"But it's_ jazz_; there hasn't been a new jazz club in _ages_."

A snort. "I'm sure."

"But Mattie, don't you see? It's the perfect opportunity! This way we can avoid England's cooking for the rest of the trip, and see something new – since, between you and me, going to England's favorite 'respectable and gentlemanly' places in London became old three centuries ago."

"Maybe it'd be better if we did something like it when we get back home…"

"But just_ think_ about it: it's the end of the conference, the meetings have been adjourned, and our flights aren't until tomorrow. That means no political responsibilities or deadlines until tomorrow afternoon. What's the harm in a little dancing on our one evening off?"

Japan had to hand it to America-san; if there was one thing he could always make a convincing argument for, it was a sales pitch. Plans of action to solve the world's problems? Not so much – though, there was hardly any point to being serious at world meetings when it was clear no one would agree on anything…

The doorknob began to turn, and Japan immediately dove over the couch, rolling when he hit the ground and landing crouched behind a potted plant. Peering between the plastic fronds, he automatically analyzed his two fellow nations. Both America-san and Canada-san walked out of the room still dressed in slacks, dress shirts, and ties. Neither had kept their suit jackets or briefcases, though America-san had a bag slung over his shoulder. As soon as they were out of the suite, Japan began to count in his head; ichi, ni, san, yon…. When he got to ni-jyuu, Japan ran out into the hallway and rushed down the stairs to the lobby. As he had suspected, the North-American twins had taken the elevator, and he was just in time to see them leave the lobby. Japan stepped out into the dreary London weather, grateful that it had stopped drizzling earlier that day. However, the wind had yet to die down even though the sun had set, and its chill cut through Japan's suit, making him shiver for a moment before he noticed two familiar heads of blond hair and forgot the temperature. They were on the sidewalk to his left, and getting farther every moment, heading north by north-west. Japan followed them.

He trailed America-san and Canada-san from a safe distance all the way to a small pedestrian-only street lined with restaurants and small stores. There, he saw America-san walk alone into an alley, which Canada-san stopped at and stood in front of, getting out his phone and proceeding to fiddle with it.

)o(

America briefly scanned the alley for people and, seeing none, immediately began to strip. From the mouth of the alleyway, Canada blocked her from the view of the street and covertly kept guard.

As soon as her shirt and tie were off, America loosened the wrappings around her chest and let out a sigh of relief. She didn't want to linger, however, so she quickly shimmied out of the rest of her clothing and pulled on a red flapper dress from the bag. Then she sat on the bag and started pulling on her stockings.

"Are you done?" Canada hissed.

"Almost," America grunted in response. _Where's the toe in this thing? _She wondered, trying to sort out the gauzy material.

"What's taking so long?"

"These stupid stockings are hard to put on, okay?"

"So don't wear them then, eh?"

"But Mattieeee! I have to look like a man most of the time! Do you know what that means?"

"What?"

"I have to be all hairy! Just look at my legs, they're hideous – wait! No, don't look, just keep staring that way!"

Canada rolled his eyes, "America, you're _blonde_. Even if women shave here – which I thought you said they don't? – it'd hardly be noticeable anyway.

"That's beside the point!"

Matthew sincerely doubted there was a legitimate 'point,' but he kept quiet, knowing that his sister was easily distracted, and thus the sooner he shut up the sooner America would be finished.

"Ready!"

)o(

Japan stopped at a random restaurant and pretended to examine the menu that had been placed just outside the door. For at least ten minutes, Japan examined, and Canada-san fiddled, before – finally, as the waitress who handled seating arrangements was beginning to look at Japan funny – Canada-san put away his phone, and a girl in a red dress stepped out of the alleyway. The girl could only be America-san, giving Japan the proof he'd been looking for for the last month, but Japan found he could not quite believe it. She looked so different! How could he have ever mistaken her for a boy?

He was having a hard time keeping himself from gaping, but now the waitress was_ really_ looking at him like he was crazy, so with a polite smile and a '_sumimasen_' said in conjunction with a small bow, Japan continued on his way up the street.

Now he had proof, so the question was honor or pragmatism? Should he, Japan, approach this as a samurai and confront America as he had originally intended to, or should he continue to trail her as the shinobi no mono would? Sometimes the voices in his head gave advice more conflicting than that of his clans. Deciding to continue on the ninja-shinobi route to satiate his curiosity, Japan followed Canada-san and America-san into a small but lively restaurant with a large dance floor in the middle. Jazz music flowed from various speakers hidden throughout the restaurant, and its vivacity threatened to sweep Japan off his feet. But he stuck to his mission and stood in a corner with several other people who were waiting to be seated after adding a fake, inconspicuous, British name to the waiting list.

His eyes did not have to search long before he found his two fellow nations, 'tearing it up' in the middle of the dance floor. Had he been paying attention to the dance, he might've recognized the style they were dancing as either Jive or Charleston, both of which had been popular with the American soldiers who had occupied his land after the Second World War. Had he paid heed to the other people in the room, he might've gathered from their expressions that America-san and Canada-san were good at whatever style they were dancing – really good. As it was, however, Japan could only stare at America.

Japan was broken out of his daze when a voice called:

"Mattie Williams?"

America-san and Canada-san left the dance floor then, and followed the waitress who had called them to a table for two, whereupon Japan deduced that Canada-san's human name must be Matthias. He was a little surprised to see the line in front of him waiting to be seated had shrunken considerably, and Japan wondered how long he had been out of it…

Soon, he too was seated, this time at one of the bar stools across the room from the objects of his observation. From his lofty, swivel-y perch, Japan once again pretended to examine his menu while he was, in fact, staring intently at the North American twins. They were both laughing and talking over sodas, menus all but forgotten.

Japan sighed. He really ought to just talk to America-san already… but he should talk to her alone, ne? It was really only her business, and besides, he didn't want to interrupt their evening.

As he watched, however, Canada-san stood up and excused himself, presumably to go to the bathroom, effectively ruining Japan's excuses. So Japan finally did the honorable thing; he stood up, made his way over to America's table, and prepared to make her aware of the fact that he knew her secret.

"_Konbanwa_, Amerika-san," he greeted her with a small bow and a voice so quiet only she would be able to hear it. From his position behind her, he could see her shoulders stiffen clearly; the straps of her dress did nothing to hide the movement, not like her bomber jacket. America turned hesitantly to face him, her eyes wide.

"Japan?" She whispered, still staring at him with panic-stricken eyes. Suddenly, she sprung up from her chair like a machine that'd just been switched to life. Grabbing Japan by his tie, she led him outside the restaurant to the jeering chorus of several catcalling men who'd managed to become tipsy by 8:45 in the evening.

They entered another alley, and America-san let go of his tie abruptly, allowing inertia to fling him out in front of her.

"How-Why – did you stalk us?!" She demanded in an angry albeit flustered voice.

Japan's voice – and his English – seemed to fail him, and all he could manage was a weak "_Ano…"_

"Answer me!" America commanded.

Japan suddenly felt that same strange obligation he'd always felt whenever Germany had ordered him and Italy to do something during training, and for a moment when he opened his mouth again, he thought he'd be able to answer properly this time; in a polite but militaristic manner stating that he knew her secret, but had known for a month, and that he fully intended to continue keeping her secret safe.

Then the world went black.

)o(

Margaret approached the table the two amazing dancers had been sitting at with a Cesar Salad in each hand and a plan to tell the blond couple – Americans, she was fairly certain – how much she and the rest of the staff had admired their moves on the floor. But when she got to the table, all she found were two nearly full fizzy drinks. Puzzled, Margaret put down the salads and walked over to the bar.

"Oi, 'enry – do you know what 'appened to the dancers who were sitting over there?"

The bartender – Henry – glanced at where Margaret was pointing and smirked.

"Sure do." Leaning slightly closer he murmured, "There was a Japanese bloke sitting up here what went up to talk to the girl while the boy was in the loo. The girl, now, she became real distressed-like, and dragged him out of the pub looking ready to go off on one. The Jap was an ex, if you ask me."

Margaret gasped. "Do you think she'll be alright?" she fretted, ringing her hands in the small black apron she used to hold her order notebook in.

"I reckon she can handle him alright. 'Sides, I saw her new boyfriend follow her out."

)o(

"W- tha… ecess-ry?" Japan thought he heard through the ringing in his ear.

"Ye… hink –'s –aking up, eh?" Japan opened his eyes to find that he'd been dragged deeper into the dim and now blurry alleyway and been propped up against the wall. After a minute, his vision cleared enough for him to focus on the thing that had presumably wreaked havoc on his poor skull; a hockey stick, in the grip of one very-angry-looking-Canadian.

"Ohayo," Canada greeted sarcastically. Behind him stood America, who seemed to Japan to be equal parts angry, afraid, and exasperated.

"Start talking," the superpower demanded, evidently deciding to hide her fear behind her fury. "What do you know, how did you find out, and why are you here?"

Japan attempted to hold his hands up in the near-universal sign of surrender and peace, but he found that his arms had been belted to his sides. Sighing in resignation, Japan sensed the tension in the atmosphere and started off with as much calmness as he could muster.

"I know you are a woman and have been pretending to be a man. I have known for nearry a month and have tord no one, nor do I intend to terr anyone. I found out through the anime fair and… and I don't know why I forrowed you. I went to your door to terr you I knew, and then I heard you and Kanada-san and I guess… I just stirr courd not berieve it. I do now though, and I aporogize for ruining your evening."

America glared at him for a few more seconds before she gave a sigh of her own, and slid down the brick wall of the alleyway to sit beside him. Japan winced a little on the inside; the wall was dirty, and the bricks must be digging into the skin on America's bare shoulders, but the last superpower didn't seem to care. She just sat there numbly, staring unseeingly at the strip of gray sky above while her brother looked on anxiously.

"You were raised by China, right?" She questioned out of the blue.

"_Hai_," Japan answered, his brows knitting together in confusion at the seemingly random question.

America's response was a hollow laugh, and for a scaryy moment Japan thought America had finally cracked under pressure.

But instead she just muttered "It figures as much," and stood up, towering over Japan. "Your brother has kept my secret for nearly seven decades. I expect the same from you – _va bene_?" Japan gulped at the scary, Italian-mafia-induced aura of doom that was radiating out from the woman and nodded hastily, all the while wondering why the Italy twins couldn't do that.

"Good," America smiled abruptly, and the aura faded to almost nothing. Almost. Kneeling down she began to unbuckle the belts that currently restrained the Asian nation.

"I told Canada that knocking you out and tying you up wasn't necessary. Just don't make me take it back, 'kay? I _hate_ having to eat my words," she continued, handing both Japan and Canada – who hadn't moved down to help and was glaring down at Japan with The Hockey Stick still firmly within his grasp – their belts back and kept the remaining one. Japan briefly wondered why she needed a belt before he remembered that she had left the hotel in a suit and couldn't very well return in the pretty dress with the flowing red strings.

Blushing slightly, Japan bowed. "I understand. This meeting never happened and you are obviousry mare. I wirr go now and arrow you to change back into Mr. America.

"_Sayonara_, America-san."

* * *

Omake: (If Japan had been caught listening outside the hotel door)

When Japan finally came to, he looked around and realized he had been tied up and placed in the bathtub. A locked bathroom with the lights off seemed like a rather strange place to keep a captive… but then again, he supposed the alternatives were to leave him in one of their rooms or drag him all the way through the hotel to the nearest alleyway.

Shinobi instincts flaring, Japan looked for something he could use to set himself free: he could use that razor, or maybe that bar of soap, or - was that a rubber ducky? Kawaii dayo!

* * *

**A/N - That line thing is still weird... Hola~! I feel compelled to state that this chapter was longer than the first two chapters combined for some reason, so I hope that justifies the wait. :) I also have the good news, and the bad news:**

**The bad news is that school and TSA (and my reign as TSA Reporter, MWAHAHAHA) started last Monday, and I won't be able to update as much, even though _I actually outlined this story and know how it will end. (Gasp!)_**

**The good news is that I have AP World History with my bff, the girl who introduced me to Hetalia, so you can expect some interesting things to come of that...**

_Notes: Being a Collection of Generally Useless Information_

Americans - are apparently super obsessed with hygiene. I don't know if this is true or not (I lack a point of reference,) but we'll go with it. Also, for anyone who's a big fan of native!America, another explanation was just that many tribes _did_ bathe daily, in rivers and sweat houses, unlike the English settlers (who gained the name _tassen-tassee_ - skunk - because they smelled so bad XD )

Green light - yes, I'm aware that for thousands of years Japan did not make a distinction between blue and green, and that traffic lights are one of the few things in modern Japan which still uses the word for blue to describe a green, thus rendering my symbolism irrelevant. But, using my poetic license, I'm going to say he was thinking/being-omnisciently-narrated in English at the time, which makes sense because he was in England - da?

_ano_ - Kind of the Japanese version of uh, um, er, etc.

ichi, ni, san, yon... ni-jyuu - 1, 2, 3, 4... 20.

My research indicates that the stereotype that European women don't shave is a truth, but a long-since outdated one. Very long since. Like, it was true in Chapter 1 when **The time was World War**** II.** In fact, they've apparently moved past us to something-I-forget-the-name-of and waxing salons which are better and cheaper than those in N. America - but this is probably a biased opinion, and I honestly don't care enough to investigate this; I'm just amused that so many people have posted something relevant to this topic on multiple websites. On a more interesting note, 'blonde' apparently changes spelling according to the gender of the person it describes - _in English_.

Sumimasen - excuse me/I'm sorry

Shinobi no mono - Japanese word for ninja (which is the Chinese word, I've read.)

Jive and Charleston - both dance styles associated with Jazz. My basic understanding is that American soldiers brought Jive, Jazz, and Charleston wherever they went during WWII. Charleston gained it's popularity in the Roaring 20's, while Jive was derived from Lindy-Hop, and dance from the same decade.

Matthias vs. Matthew - you didn't really expect Japan to remember his name _before_ he'd felt the wrath of his hockey stick, did you?

konbanwa - good evening.

Margaret & 'Enry and Their English - I tried to match the language/accent with whomever was the main focus of the scene. So, in this case, I (attempted) to use British English of the somewhere-around-cockney variety. Hence we have 'a fizzy drink,' which is a coke (pop or soda outside the South) and the loo is the restroom. There's also "Go off on one," an expression which here means to become very angry and act on said anger. Technically, I could have used some British English for when they were walking out the hotel (lift instead of elevator) and through London (shop instead of store), but...

va bene? - okay?

_Reviews!_

Guest-Ricato-san: Indeed he did, comrade. Indeed he did... Does this count as "soon?"

Basilisk Heart: ... social etiquette says I should say "Your welcome," but I feel like saying 'Thank you' back! Umm... both? Hai, Rin and Len are awesome, though I don't really have favorites in that fandom. I love Ievan Polka though. To be totally honest, I have no idea who Sai is, but if you think Japan could pull him and his paleness off, then I'm going with it! And, _SHH! Don't encourage me!_ Between now and the last update I was introduced to, became hooked on, and watched the entire series of Ouran High School Host Club. Thankfully, I finished it before I could get any (fanfic) ideas, or I don't know what I would do. I am also in danger of falling for How to Train Your Dragon and Ultimate Spider-Man, but I'll try to keep that to crossovers.

KKsaiyancat: Cosplaying is fun, aru! ...I swear you guys are all related to China, because you keep guessing my plan. Sorta. Ish. And _THIS_ is what happens - (Dun dun DUN!) - to answer your probably rhetorical question.

MissCin101: Hakuna matata- you're doing brilliantly! Keep it up, and you'll be writing reviews for... I dunno, the Kirkland Review? Or was it Kirkus? I'm glad you liked it, this story was specifically designed to marketed as cute and funny (lol, just kidding), and Tada!

**Please review! I love hearing your feedback. Plus, I'm not sure that I've got the right genre on this. I was thinking about making it Romance/Drama, but that didn't feel right... What do you think?**


	4. Service Of Public Announcement (SOPA)

All right, so normally I wouldn't post something like this into one of my stories, but this is important. There's a chance that the last 2-5 updates you were alerted to included this already, and you're sick and tired of seeing this message, but if you haven't, please continue reading:

**A message from dracohalo117 and Leaf Ranger...SOPA is back, that is right people, the bill that is threatening to take away our freedoms on the internet and beyond is BACK, and not only is it back, but it is trying to be passed quietly so nobody notices, SOPA will guarantee that anybody who streams a video, whether it be on youtube, a walkthrough for a video game, or a kid singing a song that is 'copyrighted' they will be treated as a felon, that is right, a FELON, do you understand me? YOU will be treated like the highest form of criminal for uploading a video game walkthrough on youtube, for singing a song on karaoke, hell, you could be arrested and treated as a felon for posting a screenshot...**

**Now, why am I telling you this? Because this is only just the beginning, how long until Fanfiction is being attacked, how long until a fanfiction writer is being carted off to a maximum state prison for writing a character from Naruto into their fanfic, or a character from Bleach, or a character fro Sekirei or Seikon no Qwaser, Highschool DxD, Trinity Blood, Witchblade, how long until THAT crap is happening? I assure you that if this passes, it will not be long, oh no, it will not be long at all, because once this passes, then ANYTHING goes, Fanfiction will be attacked for using canon characters in a fanon manner, authors will be arrested for writing a book whose main character has glasses, just like in another series, artists will be arrested and confined for using sapphire blue in the iris of one of their characters like another author. We CANNOT let this happen!**

**Don't believe us? Look at the links below, remove the spaces, see for yourself, and please, PLEASE spread the word and fight this assault on our freedoms, because this isn't just going to affect americans, oh no, it will affect EVERYBODY across the globe!**

**: / www . huffingtonpost 2013/08/07/unauthorized-streaming-felony_n_3720479 . html**

**: / www . washingtonpost blogs/the-switch/wp/2013/08/05/sopa-died-in-2012-b ut-obama-administration-wants-to-revive-part-of-it /**

**: / www . techdirt articles/20130805/12472124074/administration-cant- let-go-wants-to-bring-back-felony-streaming-provis ions-sopa . shtml**

**and the video which caused us to find out about this horrible thing...remove the spaces, and spread the word...**

**: / www . youtube watch?v=1fTt4K4Cae4**

**POST THIS MESSAGE AS AN UPDATE TO EACH OF YOUR FICS! PM EVERY AUTHOR YOU'VE EVER TALKED TO AND TELL THEM THE MESSAGE! TELL ALL YOUR OFFLINE FRIENDS AND FB FRIENDS! SPREAD THE WORD FAR AND WIDE!**

* * *

Juniper A/N - you also need to add a dot-COMpany and a slash after huffington post, washington post, techdirt, and youtube.

Also, here's a petition you can sign: : / petitions. white house / petition / stop-sopa-2013 / LMzMVrQF # thank-you = p

(with a dot-GOVernment after the White House.)

The Author would like to note that the issue addressed by SOPA is, in fact, an issue (and a very gray one at that.) However, she maintains that enacting SOPA would be like using a blow torch to kill the weeds in the garden...

On that happy note, thank you, have a magical day!


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